Gwen Tennyson and the Witches of America
by ThePink1 at Reefside.Net
Summary: Everyone knows what happens to kids with magical powers when they turn 11 ...
1. A is for Accepted

**Gwen Tennyson and the Witches of America**

A Fanfiction by: _A J_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ben 10 or Harry Potter. The Original Characters contained within and the plot are all mine.

Chapter One

A is for Accepted

The last bell of the last day of school rang, and the classrooms emptied out into the hallways one more time. Kids were emptying their lockers, teachers were emptying out their desks, and the janitors were filling their pails for one final scrubdown of Bellwood Middle School before summer.

Ben Tennyson ran down the hallway from his math classroom, clutching his report card and grinning the while. Sandra and Carl (his parents, who insisted he call them by name) were gonna flip! With a huge amount of determination, and no small amount of tutoring, teasing, and bullying from his cousin Gwen, he'd managed B's in most of his classes, and even an A in Geography! He caromed around the last corner and screeched to a halt in front of his locker. Dialling in the combination for the last time of the year suddenly seemed anticlimactic.

Grabbing his (nearly) new rollerblades out, he tossed the last couple schoolbooks in from his backpack. Noises behind him drew his attention to see Gwen, who was emptying her locker out across the hall. She slid everything else into her carryall before stacking her Fifth Grade books inside. Noticing Ben waiting for her out of the corner of her eye, she took a few extra seconds to make sure the books were straightened just right before shutting the locker and spinning the lock one last time.

"C'monnnn Gwennnn," Ben whined, seeing that they were the last two kids left in the hallway. "Grandpa's prob'ly boring our parents to tears with old Plumber stories waiting for us. He said if we hit the road early enough, we could be back at our campsite before nightfall."

Gwen gave a distracted nod to her cousin as they fell in step headed for the exit, pulling her shoulder strap higher and fiddling with her hair-scrunchie. Without warning, she elbowed him in the stomach, and yelled 'Race ya!" She took off down the hallway.

"Hey, no fair!" Ben cried once he'd caught his breath. As he took off after her, he spun once to wave a distracted goodbye to their principal (and fellow Plumber), Mr. White. "See ya in the fall!" he yelled, smiling as he went past the balding man at the T-junction.

"Be still, my aching heart," Ed White murmured quietly back, waving in spite of himself after his most disruptive student. _Ever._

Gwen was actually waiting for Ben at the bottom of the stairs outside the school. At his incredulous expression, she just laughed. "Come on, slowpoke, get your skates on. I want to try out this new spell, and I need a gauge to measure my speed against." She tucked her spellbook back into her pocket, and popped the wheels out on the bottoms of her shoes. Ben knew better than to ask; she'd be more than happy to explain _after _they were back on the road in Grandpa Max's Rustbucket II. Pulling on his rollerblades, he shoved his shoes in his backpack and rolled next to Gwen.

With a superior, mischievous smirk, she intoned under her breath. Her hands and eyes glowed blue for a second, then her shoes did, too. Gwen was suddenly floating a couple inches off the ground. "Ready?" she asked. Ben nodded, grinning. "GO!"

The two slalomed from the school to Gwen's house, which was half a mile farther than Ben's from Bellwood M. S. They collapsed to a near-simultaneous stop at the picnic table next to the Rustbucket, and immediately started bickering about who'd won their race. Gwen's new 'gliding' spell gave her better speed, while Ben could maneuver better on his skates. The pair were ready to race to Ben's house and back to settle the argument when Gwen's parents came out of the house.

One look at their expressions pushed all thoughts of racing from Gwen's mind. "Mom? Dad? Wh … What is it?"

Her dad looked up first. "Hey, pumpkin. We … ah … Ben, could we talk to Gwen alone for a minute?"

For once, Ben took the hint at face value. "Sure, Uncle Frank. Is it okay if I wait in the house?" His only answer was a strained nod from his aunt Lily. Ben skedaddled.

As soon as he was inside, Gwen's parents sat down beside her at the picnic table. "Honey, I know you were looking at academies last summer," her mom began. "I know you feel like you're not … challenged in Bellwood schools. But some of the schools you checked out may have been … God, Frank. How do I say this?"

"I believe the term here is 'misrepresented'," her husband supplied. "Pumpkin, how many places did you check out last year?"

Gwen thought hard for a minute. "Actually … just two, really. The Bancroft Academy, and their ah … _competitor_, the Natasha Institute. Why?" She gasped as her parents exchanged a strange look. "Did one of them send something? Did I get accepted?" _'In _spite_ of Ben and the weirdness-fest last summer was?'_ she added to herself.

"Ah, noooo," her mom began. "Not one of those. A different school. In Salem. One that caters more towards … well … your new hobby, honey." Gwen looked back and forth between her parent's faces, but their expressions were unreadable.

"My new hobby? You mean judo? Why would some dojo in Salem be interest … ed …" She stopped as her father shook his head.

"No, pumpkin. Your _other_ new hobby. The one you've been all hyped-up about since last summer. The one from the Talent Show."

"You mean … magic," she gulped.

"Yes honey. I … we … oh, there's no other way to ask this. Did you check out a witch's school in Salem, Gwen? Because they sent you this." Her mother pulled out a yellowed envelope and handed it to Gwen. Now thoroughly confused, the red-haired girl took the envelope, which turned out to be parchment.

_'Odd,'_she thought, opening the thick packet. She noticed the ornate wax seal on the back, which was a phoenix shield supported by a griffon and a unicorn. Flipping it back over, all she found was her name and address. _'Even odder,'_ she added, as she drew the thick sheets, also of parchment, from the envelope. Carefully unfolding them, she read the top one:

Salem Center of Sorcery Preparatory

Headmistress Corinne Rowan

_(High Sorceress, American Representative:_

_Int'l Confederation of Wizards and Witches)_

Dear Miss Tennyson,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to attend the Salem Center of Sorcery this coming fall. Please find enclosed the list of required books and materials. We await your response no later than 1 August. Classes start 1 September.

Regards,

_Corinne Rowan_

Headmistress

Twice as mystified, Gwen looked at the other piece of parchment. It was a list, all right, straight out of any kid's fantasy story. She was expected to find pointy hats and blue robes with stars on them, a cauldron and potion ingredients, and a whimsical list of books of spells, each one crazier-sounding than the last.

_'This can't be for ...real ...'_she started thinking, when the obvious answer occurred to her. _'Ben,' _she mused, her lips quirking at the extraordinarily-well-thought-out joke from her cousin. He must have gone Greymatter to make this sound so realistic. Deciding to play along for the moment, she looked up at her parents with wide eyes. "I don't know what to say, you guys. I never applied to anything in Salem. At least, that I can remember at the moment ..." She thought back to the stop they'd made in Salem at the end of last July.

Suddenly, she thought of another possible culprit for this flight of fancy. _'What if Ben isn't behind this? What if it was Charmcaster?' _Either way, she was going to have Grandpa Max take them back to Salem long enough to find out whether this was genuine, just in case. As well as making a return trip to Mount Rushmore, to see whether Charmcaster and the others were still locked up in the forcefield cells the Tennysons had caught them in at the end of last summer.

Max, Carl, Sandra and Ben came out of the house, curious expressions evident. Ben had his battered suitcase in one hand, and his backpack (now full of electronic game equipment, which he'd left at Gwen's last night in preparation) over his shoulder. Gwen had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing when she saw that Ben was already wearing his 'lucky shirt'. _'At least Aunt Sandra got it washed for our sakes,'_ she told herself.

"So, we ready to hit the road?" Max asked his grandkids, grinning affably.

_"Beyond _ready," Ben answered, toting his luggage over to the Rustbucket II and setting it inside through the door. "D'jou pack last night too, cuz?" Gwen couldn't contain her grin as she nodded.

"Already put my stuff in the left side drawers," she answered, giving Grandpa Max a warm smile. _'The benefit of having the RV parked in our driveway for the last week.'_ "Mom? Dad? We'll give ya a call from Great Aunt Vera's, and I'll let you know what I've found out about this, okay?" She waved the handful of parchment, and smiled reassuringly. Frank and Lily Tennyson couldn't help but feel reassured by the faith they had in their responsible daughter.

"Go on, honey," her mom said, giving her a nudge toward the Rustbucket.

"Drive safe, Dad," Frank and Carl said simultaneously, then grinned at each other.

Lily and Sandra stood back,watching their children set off for another summer-long 'road trip to nowhere' with their grandpa Max. _'At least they get along together, now,' _both women said to themselves, thinking of the state of perpetual warfare their children used to live in.

Once inside the Rustbucket, Max strapped in and started the engine. "C'mon, Ben. Get your stuff stowed." Turning to Gwen, he asked, "So, what was it your parents wanted, anyway? They looked pretty serious, Gwen."

She deliberated her answer for a moment, then just dug the thick-packed letter out and handed it to Max. Gwen watched his bushy grey eyebrows raise higher and higher as he read. When he turned back to her, she said, "So. Do you think it's legit, Grandpa?" She lowered her voice and added, _"Or do you think Ben and Greymatter're pulling my leg?"_

"Only one way to find out. We could be in Salem in four days, and we'll check into this place then." Looking into the rearview mirror, he chuckled. "All set, Ben?"

The eleven-year-old keeper of the Omnitrix grinned back at the other two, waving his charging Gametoy GS. He was seat-belted in at the dining table, with his backpack full of electro-crack strapped in next to him. Gwen just shook her head at the sight.

"Then here we go!" Max bellowed, shifting gears and stomping pedals. The Rustbucket II left a cloud of blue-grey smoke and two sets of waving parents in its wake.


	2. B if for Believing

**Gwen Tennyson and the Witches of America**

A Fanfiction by: _A J_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ben 10 or Harry Potter. The Original Characters contained within and the plot are all mine.

Chapter Two

B is for Believing

"Max Tennyson, as I live and breathe, how the blazes are you?" The two cousins stared up in wonder at the statuesque woman behind the counter. Grandpa Max had led them into a little general store on the outskirts of Salem, Massachusetts.

"Well, Guinevere, well." Max smiled slowly. "Wow, Gwen, you look great." He paused, then chuckled. "I've got someone to introduce you to. These are my grandkids: Ben," he steered the tousle-haired boy forward. "He's Carl's," he added, then turned and motioned his granddaughter forth. "And this is Frank's youngest, Gwendolyn." He beamed proudly over the pair.

"Kids, this is your Grandma Verdona's sorority sister, Guinevere Binks." He grinned down and gave Gwen a conspiratorial wink. "She's also Frank's godmother."

"So you're the grandma I'm named after?" Gwen asked, smiling shyly. Guinevere nodded.

"It's Ginny Fisher now, Max. Lord, I haven't seen you since the boys graduated. Tell me everything. How's Verdona?"

Overwhelming silence settled over the Tennysons as they looked back and forth. "Ahhhh … _'ahem.'_ V's been gone for seven years, now, Gwen," Max said, totally flustered.

Ginny paled. "Sev … seven years?"

"Gwen, are you all right?" Max took hold of one of her shaking hands from the countertop. "You were at the funeral, don't you remember? It ... it happened that rainy spring night she was coming back from visiting you on Memorial Day."

Guinevere braced herself against the counter, her gasps audible as she remembered what had happened seven years earlier on Memorial Day. _'The last battle,'_ she thought, ears buzzing and heart racing. Her eyes teared up, thinking of the argument the two women had gotten into that night, on whether to go 'across the pond' and help or not. Apparently, despite Ginny's warnings, Verdona had gone to Hogwarts after all, and hadn't fared well. _'Then why don't I remember the funeral?'_ she worried.

"Gwen?" Max repeated, brow drawn in worry.

"Ex … excuse me a minute, Max. I … I've got to … got to …" Guinevere stepped away, her back unnaturally straight, and walked through her back storeroom to her 'specialty wares' area.

The three Tennysons exchanged more worried looks. Before Max or Ben could try, Gwen went to the doorway. "This is girl stuff, guys, not hero stuff. Leave it to me." She followed quietly behind Guinevere before either of them could say anything.

As she came through the doorway of the second storeroom, the Enhancement Charm of Bezell she kept in her pocket warmed against her hip. Withdrawing it, she gasped in surprise as its etched design lit up in a pattern that pointed at 'Grandma Gwen', standing in a back corner. Gwen's unoccupied hand glowed blue in automatic instinct.

As she looked up, Guinevere turned to face her, alerted by her gasp. Ginny held an ornate wand in her left hand, and was standing next to an equally ornate small stone cauldron. There was a band of shimmering, silvery _something_ hanging from wand to cauldron, illuminating the dim room.

Both Gwens pointed accusingly, while simultaneously crying, "You know _magic?!"_ Silence hung ominously between them until …

Ben and Max came tearing through the door, Ben with his hand over an Omnitrix already dialed to XLR8, and Max with his pair of palm-sized stun guns.

"What's wrong?" "Who screamed?" "Which way did they go?" The two men's questions rang loudly as they careened to a stop behind the younger Gwen.

She and Guinevere looked at each other nervously for several seconds more, then the older woman sighed and let her hands fall in defeat. Turning back to the swirling cauldron, she stirred the glowing strand on the end of her wand into the stone bowl, which seemed to contain more of the same eerie bands.

Max put his stunners away with an exhalation of relief. Ben's hands fell lax to his sides as he stared wide-eyed at the roomful of strangeness around them. As bad as she wanted to be right alongside him ogling at everything, Gwen realized just how bad an idea it was to leave Ben wandering unchecked in what was apparently a _real_ magic shop.

Calling up her _mana_, Gwen threw a blue wall of force between him and the shelf full of odd jars brimming with who-knew-what. At his bellowed "_HEY_!" she merely glared at him, and growled, "Touch not, lest ye be touched, doofus."

Max rolled his eyes and smirked at his grandkids. "So, Ginny," he started, using the new nickname. It should keep the confusion to a minimum with them both in the room, he supposed. "It's good to see you've kept your hand in the Craft. It's actually why we're here in Salem." With a nod in his granddaughter's direction, he added, "Gwen's been accepted to Salem Sorcery Prep." He beamed proudly down on her as she and Ben both gaped at him in dawning awareness.

"You knew all along that letter was on the level?" Gwen seethed, glaring. When her grandfather just nodded back affably, she threw her hands in the air and grumbled "_MEN_-_nysons_!"

Max laughed outright at the now-familiar epithet, which his daughter-in-laws had coined years ago when dating his sons, and revived a decade later dealing with _their_ sons, Ben and Ken. "Well," Max said, once his chuckling had subsided. "What say we take a better look at that letter, Gwen, and see what we can find out while we're in town."


	3. C is for Cooties

**Gwen Tennyson and the Witches of America**

A Fanfiction by: _A J_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ben 10 or Harry Potter. The Original Characters contained within and the plot are all mine.

Chapter Three

C is for Cooties

"Hey, Grandma Gwen," Ben started, bored. With his cousin's shield blocking him from anything remotely interesting, he decided to resort to (shudder) … _conversation._ "What'cha cooking in your cauldron?"

"In my ..?" Guinevere looked back at the stone receptacle next to her. glowing faintly with the silvery strands still swirling inside. "Oh! This isn't a cauldron, Benjamin. This is a pensieve. Witches and wizards use them to hold spare thoughts when their heads feel to full, or to help remember something easier."

"Like a giant magic Post-it?" Ben asked irreverently. Gwen punched him in the arm. "OW! What? I was just asking …"

"Gwen, why don't you run out to the Rustbucket and grab your letter from the Institute. And Ben," Max added, when the preteen boy started into a victory dance, thinking he'd finally get a run at all the fascinating shelves. "Go hit the canned goods aisle up front and grab a few dinner's worth for the three of us." At Ben and Gwen's shocked looks, Max chuckled. "You think I didn't notice you two sneaking off for fast food last summer? You two can save your allowance for souvenirs this year. I promise to cook 'real meals'," he even made air quotes with his fingers, "at least once a day."

Ben took off running before his grandfather could change his mind. When Max looked back at Gwen, who hadn't moved an inch, she pulled her parchment packet from Salem Center out of her back pocket. With a cousin and cabin-mate like Ben, she wasn't taking _any_ chances with this, her most sensitive information yet aside from the spellbook she'd 'won' from Charmcaster. (_That_ was still in her pocket!)

Gwen, Ginny and Max put their heads together over the unfurled pages, perusing the list of school supplies Salem Center for Sorcery Prep had sent to the red-haired girl.

"Hmm, looks like I've got most of this around the store," Ginny said, tapping the first half of the list. She waved her wand, and a black cauldron roughly the size of Gwen's head floated off a shelf and zoomed around the back room, stopping in front of a few other shelves long enough for five other things to jump into the bowl of the pot. "That's the whole of the First Year's list that I carry, dear. But that should save you from having to spend more than necessary in that new upscale monstrosity in the center of town. They opened a few years ago, to cater to the muggle tourists selling cheesy 'magical' souvenirs."

"I think we wandered into the tourist part of that place last summer," Max chuckled. "Remember the pilgrim outfits, Gwen?"

Gwen looked up from where she was inventorying the contents of the cauldron, which had set down at her feet. _"Please,_ don't remind me. I'm still repressing." She looked back down again, and said, "That's the scales, vials, basic potions kit, gloves, and … hey, what are these made of? They don't feel like leather." She held up the gloves out of the cauldron. They were a vivid dark green.

Ginny grinned. "Those are dragon-hide, Gwen. Peruvian Vipertooth, specifically." She gave Max a wink. "My second husband works as a dragon keeper down there, and whenever they have a ah … fresh harvest, he sends me a shipment. Personally, I think he's just trying to win me back," she added. Gwen giggled, and Max shook his head, grinning.

"So we still need to go shopping for the school robes, the books, and … the wand …" Gwen trailed off as she tried to figure out what kind of wand they meant. So she asked.

"Ooooh, there're nearly as many wands as there are witches and wizards," Ginny gushed. "It starts with the type of wood, goes then by length and thickness, and then the core is added. Each wand has at its center a core of some magical substance, like unicorn hair, dragon heartstring, kelpie leaf … stuff like that … then of course you have to remember that the wand picks the witch."

"What do you mean?"

"This is my wand, which I've had since _I_ was eleven," Ginny said, holding up her wand again. "It's Massachusetts Hickory, twelve-and-a-quarter inches, slightly stiffer than regular Hickory, which is why it has this bend in the middle. Let that be a lesson to you, young lady: Don't keep your wand in your back pocket. The price I paid for living through the Sixties, when every girl got to wear slacks …" Gwen giggled. "The core is dragon-hair, believe it or not, one of the last of the wands made from the tufted Chinese fireball, before that subspecies bred away into the more dominant dragons of the region. Now they're all frilled, like those dinosaurs in the Jurassic park movies." She ran a finger fondly along her wand. "The Wandmaster waited over fifty years before he found the witch for this wand."

"The … Wandmaster?" Gwen gulped.

"Sorry, it _does_ sound over-the-top, doesn't it?" Ginny smiled. "Old Phineas Hutchinson has been making wands for almost a hundred years. He started right after World War One, when he took over the business after his father died. They both served, Navy men, and Phin keeps his medals up over his counter next to his other 'unsellable wands'.

It's what he calls the ones he and his father made before and during the War, from wildly different materials from all over the world. This hung there until I came along," she waved her wand in emphasis, leaving a trail of smoke that turned into a heart-shaped ring and floated away. "The only other one I know that he sold went to his own great-great-granddaughter, Manda. I remember the core, which was griffin-feather, because her mother bragged that she had a matching feather in her hat, but I don't remember the rest …"

"Well, now I know who to come to for all the gossip," Gwen grinned. Just then, the little bell over the door between the two storerooms jingled.

"That's our cue, too, Gwen. Let's find out how much chili your cousin's piled up while you girls talked shop," Max said good-naturedly, and trailed the two G-women out.

The trio came out to the main store to see Ben making a small pyramid of canned goods on the counter next to the register. "Okay, we left him alone too long," Gwen sighed, when she got a closer look at his handiwork. Each layer was something different, from canned spaghetti rings on the bottom, then various veggies, then the dreaded chili, and he was working on a layer of cream-of soups when they came out. He was currently frozen, can in hand, at the sight of the three girls who had just come into Ginny's store.

They looked nothing alike. The girl in the lead was practically a duplicate of Gwen, with red hair and green eyes straight from the Emerald Isle. She was even in a green dress that matched her irises.

Her companions both had brown hair, but they were at the opposite ends of that description. One girl's was so dark, it was almost black; the other's was paled by a grayish sheen, like she was middle-aged, or part mouse. The dark-haired girl was pale of skin, the mousy one was swarthy, with a Mediterranean tan. Her lighter hair matched her eyes, grey with golden edges; her compatriot had midnight blue eyes that practically glowed from under her thick lashes. She had apparently followed her friend's example, with a blue dress just as deep. The other girl wore a simple pale yellow summer frock over Capri jeans.

"Well, speak of the diva, and her sister shall appear," Ginny chuckled. "Linda, how are you?" she asked the blue-dressed girl. "We were just talking about your sister and her wonder-wand." Guinevere turned to the other two girls. "Niella, nice to see you again. Who've you brought this time?" The red-haired girl grinned, and pointed a thumb over her shoulder.

"This is A J, Miss Ginny. She's the daughter of a friend of my father's from California. She just got her letter, and we figured we'd introduce her around, so she'd settle in better through the summer."

"Well, you've got another to teach the ropes to, Niella. My Goddaughter here just got her letter, too." Ginny introduced Gwen to the other two local residents, Linda in blue and Niella in green, and then the two neophyte witches Gwen and A J shook hands. "So why did you get sent to Salem, if you're from California?" Ginny asked A J.

"Here we go again," Niella sang, rolling her eyes. Linda elbowed her, giggling.

A J cleared her throat, like she was about to give a report in school. "My parents split up years ago, and my dad's in long-term medical care from a horrible lab accident, and now I'm living with my grandparents in Cambridge. Grandpa's an American history professor there. You should have seen his eyes bug out when my letter arrived. All those years, semester after semester, telling people the witch-hunts were just hysteria-induced propaganda …" She and the other girls all laughed, until they became aware of a staring pair of green eyes from across the room.

"Take a picture; it'll last longer," A J told the ogling boy.

"Good idea," he sassed, with a sudden smirk. "Hey, _cuz,_ can I borrow your phone?" he said, turning to Gwen.

"Forget it, ultra-doofus. I'm saving memory space for the tour of town," Gwen retorted. She plonked her cauldron-full of merchandise on the counter next to all the canned goods. "Can you ring me up, Guinevere? I'm beginning to think I want to see the other store _without_ Ben."

"I'm not sure I should just let you go running around Salem by yourself, Gwen …" Max started, thinking suddenly of all the normal hazards that still lurked in any given city. She may have become a superhero along with her cousin over the course of the last year, but she was still his eleven-year-old granddaughter.

"Grandpa … Please?" Gwen pleaded.

"She won't be alone," dark-haired Linda said. "We'll show her around. Right, Nia?"

"Absolutely," her red-haired friend nodded, stepping next to Gwen and throwing a comradely arm around her shoulder. Ginny and Max exchanged a startled glance at the uncanny picture of the two girls. Outfits aside, Niella and Gwen looked more alike than Ben and Gwen did. Even their hair was almost the same length.

"Wow, no saying she won't fit right in, huh?" A J blurted, looking around at the other three girls. Then all four giggled, realizing that Gwen looked like she had bits of all three of the other Salemites to her appearance: from Niella's hair and eyes, to an outfit cut like A J's, but colored like Linda's.

"Please?" Gwen repeated. Max sighed, nodded, and chuckled.

"All right, sweety. You've got your phone on you, right?" he asked. She nodded enthusiastically, turning her hip so he could see the tell-tale bump that was her new Blackberry net-phone. She turned back to Guinevere. "So what's my total, fairy grandmother?" Ginny grinned as well as the girls at that one.

"Let's see … cauldron, scales, potion basics, vials, ink, and gloves ... that comes out to about a galleon and a half, dear." Gwen, Max, Ben and A J all looked blankly back at her, while Linda and Niella were both nodding sagely.

Gwen pulled out her blue pleather wallet and looked inside. "Uh … any chance that equals a twenty?"


	4. D is for Delinquent

**Gwen Tennyson and the Witches of America**

A Fanfiction by: _A J_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ben 10 or Harry Potter. The Original Characters contained within and the plot are all mine.

Chapter Four

D is for Delinquent

After sorting out the monetary issues, (it turned out that a galleon was equal to thirty dollars, American, so Gwen's bill was forty-five dollars,) Max offered to drive the four girls as far as the second store. He grinned at their groans.

"Now, Ben and I won't come in, but this way you can put your stuff right in the Rustbucket, and not have to cart it all over for the rest of the day, Gwen," he said as they all exited Guinevere's Dry Goods.

"Ooooh, it's a good idea, Gwen," Linda said. "All my supplies took up a medium trunk. And unless you have the galleons to spring for one with the new Granger Enlargement Charm, they start to weigh down P D Q."

"Granger Enlargement Charm?" Gwen asked.

"Yeah, doubles the space in a trunk, or anything else it's on, while quartering the weight. Named after the witch who commercialized them, Hermione Granger. Well, Hermione Granger-Weasley, now … heroine of the war against You-Know-Who in Britain a few years ago." Niella looked expectantly at the Tennysons, but Max, Ben, and Gwen as well as A J just returned her gaze blankly.

"Uh, they're not gonna know a thing until we get them over to Poe's Inkpot, Nia," Linda told her.

"Oh! Right …" the red-haired girl replied sheepishly.

'Everybody climb in," Max said as he led them to the Rustbucket II. Linda and Niella looked over the dilapidated camper with some trepidation, while A J followed Gwen up the steps without a moment's pause. She popped back out a second later with a grin for her two Salem friends.

"You guys, he's got _everything_ in here! Even a real stove!"

"Yeah, don't remind us," Ben said, sharing a nauseated glance with his cousin. "Grandpa likes to invent new recipes …"

"Ah, c'mon …" Max said with a grin as he started the engine. "You two had nothing but rave reviews for my cricket cacciatore."

"Er, no offense, Grandpa," Gwen managed while Ben looked out the window, even greener. "But I was just being nice, and that was the same day Ben got that killer summer cold …"

Max turned from Gwen to Ben and back, his expression crestfallen … for all of seven seconds. Then he guffawed, spinning to lean over the steering wheel laughing for several minutes.

Their three new friends were starting to exchange worried looks when Gwen cleared her throat. "Hey Grandpa? We should get going to the other store. They may be run by wizards, but I'm sure they still keep normal hours."

"You'd win that bet," Niella snickered. "The Yates family is so straight-laced I bet they measure when they fold their laundry."

The other girls giggled, until Ben looked up from his newest Sumo Slammers game. "Who folds their laundry?" he asked. That got them all laughing as hard as Max already was.

"Alright," Max managed to wheeze out eventually. "On to Yates', then," he continued, and they were off.

_Half an hour later …_

"Ohmigod, that was _amazing!"_ Niella gushed. She, A J, and Linda were still chattering excitedly about the sudden appearance of one of the many alien heroes that had been making news for the past year. "Which one was it?"

"The fast one," A J replied. She had her denim beltpouch's contents all over the dining table of the Rustbucket II, and was jotting down notes about the apartment fire they'd just seen put out with the help of a blue and black blur of an alien. She flipped back through her notepad, muttering "My dad kept track of the reports all last summer … He wrote reams of notes on each of the aliens before ..." She hung her head, and Niella wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"It's okay, Aje," she murmured quietly, leaning her forehead against the brunette's.

"Thanks, Nee," A J replied after a minute and a steadying breath, and Niella scooted back away. "I'll have to get back into Dad's boxful of notes, but I think his name was Accelizard ..."

"Wait, I heard it was Kencelerate," Niella interjected. Ben and Gwen exchanged knowing grins.

"It's X-L-R-8, actually," Gwen told the other girls. "I've met him. He saved my life once in Chicago."

"Chicago … Hey, weren't we there for that concert, and that freaky weather kept ruining it, Grandpa?" Ben asked with a grin.

"Yeah, we were there to see Shag Carpeting," Max said nostalgically. The other kids all snickered at the name of Max' favorite band.

"So … how fast _is_ he?" A J asked Gwen.

"Well, he saved me from a lightning bolt," Gwen said proudly. Ben had to turn around in the passenger seat again to hide his grin.

"Wow, that's … fast," Niella said quietly, while A J and Linda whistled. Ben cleared his throat after a few seconds.

"Uh, we're here," he said unnecessarily as the Rustbucket lurched to a halt in the parking lot across from the downtown Salem store the Tennysons all remembered from the previous year. "Hey, Grandpa? Just promise me … no pilgrim hats this summer." Max grinned, nodding, while the three Salemites chuckled politely.

That is, until Gwen passed her phone around, with the saved pictures she'd kept from their last trip onscreen, of Ben in his Puritan coat and hat. _Then_ they cracked up again, while Max shut the engine off. "Ah, _mannnn,"_ Ben moaned, when he caught a glimpse of the shot. _"Thanks,_ Gwen ..." he slumped down in his seat, sulking.

Eventually, the four girls calmed down enough to head to Yates. "Hey, Mister Tennyson?" Niella started, as the others climbed out of the RV.

"Just call me Max," he told her affably.

"Poe's Inkpot, the bookstore that's our next stop? It's right over there … Max," she told him with a grin. He looked where she was pointing, and had to turn back uncertainly.

"There's nothing there but an empty lot ..." he said. She blinked at him, then looked back out the windshield of the Rustbucket II for a second. Ben sat up at the byplay next to him, checking out this mystery bookstore as well.

"That place?" Not much of a store, even if it does only sell books," he said, eyeing the small, shabby-looking building at the corner. It was even smaller than the Gamestop in the Bellwood Mall.

Linda poked her head back in. "What's the holdup, Nia?"

Niella looked from max, still staring out the window in confusion, to Ben, who gave her a shrug, then to Linda forlornly. "Max can't see Poe's," she told the dark-haired girl.

"Really?" Linda began, then clapped a hand to her mouth. _"OH!"_ She looked almost pityingly at Max for a second, then shook her head. "Well, we'll just have to take him … _them_, with us when we go in."

"Can you do that?" Ben asked, excited by the idea of checking out someplace magical suddenly, _with_ _permission,_ even if it was just a boring ol' bookstore.

"Wellll ..." Niella started.

"We're not _supposed_ to take muggles in," Linda said. "But family members are an exception. At least, the ones who know the truth already are.

"Uh, what's a muggle?" Ben asked.

"You and Max are," Linda said blithely. "Well, you're a squib, actually."

"Huh?"

"Now you're just torturing him," Niella giggled.

"What's taking you guys so long?" A J called back through the door.

"Educating Ben," Niella yelled back. Max chuckled.

"Oh, _there's_ a full-time job," Gwen giggled, coming back in with the other two girls.

"_Gwennnn,"_ Ben whined, rolling his eyes. The girls all laughed.

"Alright, you four, go on," Max chuckled. "You can explain it all at the bookstore."

"Okay … Grandpa Max," Niella razzed. She shooed the others back out, and the girls went into Yates' Salem Emporium.

"Uh, Grandpa? Did you just … get adopted?" Ben chortled.

"It sure looks like it," Max replied, grinning after his granddaughter's double.

Once inside the store, Linda led the other three unrelentingly through to the magical goods department. "What's the rush, Linda?" A J begged.

"You're kidding right? The sooner we get through with the necessities, the sooner we get out on the town unchaperoned," Linda grinned back.

"What trouble are you getting into now, sis?" an older girl's voice asked from around the next corner.

"None of your bee's-wax, _sis,"_ Linda countered, rolling her eyes. She led the others into the aisle, where a taller, curvier version of her was perusing through a stack of folded kerchiefs. "Hey, 'Manda.

"Nia and I are playing tour-guide for a pair of new girls. 'Manda, meet A J and Gwen. Girls, this is my sister Amanda." She pointed in both directions after the fact, and Amanda gave the two out-of-towners a cursory glance before she grinned.

"So, you all have your letters, eh? Headed to S 3 P this fall, ready to learn the real thing?" The grin she gave them turned predatory. "I have to intro you girls to the seniors you'll be gophering for when you get there." Linda's sister called into the next aisle while Gwen and the others traded uneasy smiles.

"Ooh, new blood, huh 'Manda?" a blonde dredlocked girl said, her dark-rimmed eyes crinkling with humor. _"And_ little Lindy to boot? Ha! Hey, Charlie, get a load of our next year's newbies."

"Oh, joy. More names to forget," a bored voice said from behind the quartet. A J, Gwen, Linda and Niella whirled around to see a nearly-albino girl, her white hair in a braid over her left shoulder. "As long as they learn to listen, we'll all … get … along ..." She drew to a halt as she and Gwen locked gazes. _"YOU!"_

"_Charmcaster!"_ Gwen seethed, her hands starting to glow.


End file.
